


The Charm of a Dog

by Arms_Of_A_Stranger



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Bestiality, Dom/sub, F/M, Mating, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-13 22:11:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3398102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arms_Of_A_Stranger/pseuds/Arms_Of_A_Stranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No longer the runt that had once ridden upon Kiba's shoulder, Akamaru can finally begin to enjoy the finer things in life. Like the beautiful women of the hidden village. (Akamaru/Different Females)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kurenai

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Naruto or any characters from it. As well, I make no money from this fanfic.
> 
> (Unbeta'd story. All grammatical errors and spelling mistakes are my own.)

\-------------------

The Charm of a Dog

Chapter 1: Kurenai

\-------------------

Despite how many years it had been since her Team 8 training days, Kurenai really should have learned better by now. After all, It didn't matter the time of day, or even the amount of reminders she delivered to her once upon a student. No matter the importance of a meeting, Kiba was notoriously known for his late arrival problems and his lack of an acceptable excuse. It wouldn't be a surprise if ‘A masked figure attacked me while on my way here’, was an excuse half the village had heard by now from the overgrown manchild.

“Where is he?” If the numberless face of her watch was correct, Kiba’s hurried last minute entrance should have been half an hour ago, a forgivable fifteen minutes after the meetings original gathering time. But at 12:45, a very unforgivable forty-five minutes past the original meeting time…the boy had better be bleeding from a head wound or some other worriable injury that would excuse his tardiness. And if he wasn't, that wouldn't last long. 

“Five more minutes…” Kurenai breathed in deeply, momentarily struggling to calm the boiling annoyance that bubbled up from the pit of her stomach, throat clenching to contain the throaty growl that lingered in the back of her throat.

Calm down, calm down…

Leaning her head back until it pressed to the scarred flesh of the aged tree she had taken to leaning against forty-six minutes ago, the young Jonin barely had time to stiffen the cry of surprise that parted her lips as she found herself flat upon the ground, a blur of white appearing from what seemed to air, her churning thoughts having initially distracted her from the others approach.

Now standing above her, the large blur of white had taken the shape of a mammoth, monstrosity of a dog, its broad shoulders set in a lazy forward lean and front paws spaced far apart on either side of her shapely hips, allowing the canine to practically loomed overtop of her.

“Fucking damnit Akamaru!” Hands thrusting forward, she delivered a halfhearted shove to the canines thick chest, her voice rising despite the rapid mantra of ‘Calm down. Calm down. Calm down’ that raced through her muddled thoughts.

“What the hell have I told you about that?!” Sensing her hostility, Akamaru stepped back a pace and cocked his head lazily to one side, openly questioning her annoyance of his enthusiastic greeting.

Despite the circumstances and the fact that hello, he had just bodily tackled her to the ground… could she really blame him for not understanding her annoyance? Even with his enhanced mental capacity, he had grown up surrounded by members of the Inuzuka clan, where such greetings were probably an everyday norm to Akamaru.

Teeth clicked together with a sharp clack, Kurenai buttoned her lip for the moment. She would talk to Akamaru about his rough housing another time. Preferable when she didn't want to throttle his partner within an inch of his life.

No, no no… Calm. Yes, calm…

Exhaling loudly as she raised herself back upon her feet, Kurenai absently swept her hands along the curve of her backside, delicately brushing flecks of dirt from off the pristine white of her outfit, calloused fingertips testing the bandages wrapped securely around her thighs for movement, touch lingering for no more than the length of a breath when she deemed them still perfectly in place.

“Alright you overgrown fluffball, where the hell is your other half?” Akamaru practically melted beneath her barked demand for answers, his brows drawn up in hesitant confusion.

With a full-body shift, the canine nervously fidgeted from side to side in a jerky swaying motion, his head lowering until his nose dragged against the torn up ground they both stood upon.

It was then Kurenai caught sight of the scroll pinned to the back of his neck, the rich red of the wood practically buried in the thick fur that sprouted from the scruff of his neck.

“Whatcha got there?” She questioned openly, more to herself rather than to the canine that bared the message.

Pulling it free from the nest of fur the scroll had become one with, she unfurled the tightly packed parchment until the the sloppy writing upon the paper showed itself.

Scribbled lettering slanted violently from one side of the page to the other, fat droplets of loose ink decorating the white parchment like misplaced landmines in a forgotten field of point formed sentences. With crimson orbs darting the length of the chicken scratched message, Kurenai could almost instantly feel her nearly achieved calm beginning to slip from her clutches once more.

“A week?” She spouted without context, eyes traveling the length of the paper for a fifth time. “What does he mean a whole week?!” Her voice rose to a shocked high pitched squeak, mouth opening and closing in a rare moment of speechlessness.

It seemed that Kiba and his ANBU team had left that morning on a mission to the

Hidden Rain Village for a week, and the young Inuzuka was now attempting to unloading his canine companion off on Kurenai, who was apparently the only one available to take care of him.

A load of bull, she was sure.

“Why the hell didn’t he just take you with him?” At her question, Akamaru pressed his nose to her hands; which still gripped at the scroll with knuckles whitened from the strain of her clenched fingers. Pulling the parchment further down, she revealed another hastily scrawled message from Kiba, this time reading aloud for the canines benefit, “Low C-rank mission. Escorting council member. Low threat. Number sensitive mission. Back in week. Feed Akamaru.”

The silence passed heavily between them, Akamaru’s head swiveling upon his shoulder blades in a rapid succession of confused head tilts. It was a weak excuse at best, and most likely a veiled attempt to not admit the truth. If past experiences were taken into account, it was probably only one thing.

An attempt at a possible booty call.

“.....He..-I….” She floundered for words, eyes glancing from between the mammoth canine and the delivered scroll with uncertainty and growing irritation. For a chance to maybe get his dick wet, he pawns off his fighting partner to his old teacher, without even a warning? No ‘Kurenai-sensei, can you look after Akamaru for me?’, or ‘Do you by chance have any plans this coming week, because I would like to get some grade-A pussy while I am on a mission. Think you can take care of Akamaru for me, so he doesn't become a colossal cockblock?’

Glancing up sharply from the scroll, she weakly glared at the patiently awaiting canine, her lips moving before her brain could even begin to filter the hurried spew of word that rushed from her drawn lips. “If you piss on the floor, I will have you shaved and neutered. Do you get me?” His head bobbed in a blur of white, slanted gaze never lingering above the swell of her hips, refusing to meet her narrowed gaze.

“Good”

\----------------------

Despite the added distraction to her usual routine, living with the nin dog was surprisingly easy. As long as he was fed and watered, the canine stayed safely out of her way, sleeping his days away behind the four-seater couch that was centered in the middle of her small livingroom. Other than occasional curious glances he threw in her direction when she made any kind of racket, and the click-clack of scraping claws against her hardwood when she set his food dish down at dinner time, her interactions with the canine were kept at a minimum.

“Akamaru, dinner!” Bending to deposit the large metal dish of dog chow beside her fridge, Kurenai had just enough time to leap out of the way as the mammoth dog came barreling into the kitchen, snout vanishing into the mound of wet food with the appetite only a starving man could emulate.

With her hip rested against the kitchen counter, Kurenai lingered within the canines presence, watching with muted amusement as his food bowl was quickly emptied of its contents and licked until it could have been mistaken for a freshly washed dish. It wasn't until the canine sat back upon his haunches that Kurenai stole the empty bowl out from in front of him and dropped it noisily into the kitchen sink with the growing pile of dirty dishes that she had been ignoring for the past few days.

She would get to those in the morning...Maybe.

The bright glare of the digital clock illuminated the darkened wall space above the door frame in a blaring reminder of the coming days normally hectic events, the minute hand ticking steading away until it inched past the top of the clock and began its slow rotation once again. Where the day went, she wasn't sure.

But without a doubt, it was time for bed.

“Akamaru” At her beckon, he glancing up from the spot on the floor his bowl had once resided, blinking up at her through heavily lowered lids, sleep not far from taking the canine into its clutches. With a delicate wisp of a touch, she stroked her fingers down the round his head, digits digging into the coarse fur between his drooped ears until they tickled the back of his neck, “Come on. Bedtime.”

Delivering one last pat to his head, Kurenai turned upon the balls of her feet and slipped from out the small kitchen, flicking the lights off behind her as she left the room. Forgoing turning the hallway light on, Kurenai rested her hand upon the wall and navigated the route to her bedroom in the dark, managing to get all the way across the length of her apartment without so much as a stubbed toe.

Feeling along the length of the door frame of her bedroom, it took a searching moment for Kurenai to find the light switch, her bedroom flooding with light as soon as she pressed down upon it.

Similar to the rest of her house, Kurenai's bedroom was rather empty when it came to furniture, the small room dominated by a massive metal framed bed that rested against the far wall, the navy blue sheets disheveled and pulled free from the corners to create a rather comfortable looking nest of blankets and body pillows. Situated on the opposite wall was a tiny desk and dresser, both covered in a mixture of damaged weapons and dirty clothing.

Just like the rest of her apartment, it was nothing special.

But none the less, it was her nothing special.

Glancing out the barred window that was cut snugly into the corner above her tiny desk, Kurenai suspiciously eyed the empty streets for a long moment, her searching gaze flickering away only after her thorough scour turned up nothing of interest.

Drawing the blinds, she turned and ushered Akamaru into the room and out of the doorway, closing it behind him as the massive pooch lumbered out of her way and practically collapses on the floor at the end of her bed, legs outstretched and paws folded neatly beneath his lowered head.

He would make a rather impressive bear skin rug.

Mindful of Akamaru’s outstretched hindpaws, Kurenai went about the lengthy task of removing her outfit of the day, fingers starting their work with the dual lengths of bandages that covered her thighs. It was a slow process, but an enjoyable one none the less. The cool air of her apartment drawing up goose bumps along the newly uncovered flesh as she unraveled the cloth, the pale skin decorated with the edge marks of her bandages in the form of tiny intricate crimson indents.

Folding the bandages, she set them atop the clutter on her desk, and lowered her hands unconsciously to stroke at her thighs, lips parting in the tiniest of sighs.

A sound that was so faint, she didn't even acknowledge its existence.

Unfastening the ties of her decorative tunic, Kurenai let it slip from off her arms and pool around her feet, the heavy thump of her mesh under armour following shortly afterwards. Unlike the care she put into her bandages, she let the heap of clothing stay where it fell upon her floor, stepping away from it without so much as a glance down. After hooking her bra onto the door knob, Kurenai rummaged through the mostly empty drawers of her dresser until she came across a white undershirt that she could almost swim within, the neckline dipping down until it lapped at the healthy swell of her bust, and the hem falling to rest mid upper thigh, hiding the black lace of her panties.

It had been a left behind shirt of Anko’s from several years back, after taking the drunk nin back to her apartment to sleep off what had turned into a monster of a hangover. Where Anko had gotten the massive shirt from, she never had found out.

Tugging at the shirts hem, Kurenai turned towards and window and cracked the blinds open a smidge. And it was with a flick of the light switch, that the room was cast into shadows, the weak glow of the moon filtering through the blinds and into the room in an eery splash of transparent light.

Sleep.

Sleep sounded like a good idea.

Bodily throwing herself upon the bed, Kurenai tossing and turned until the mattress cradled the familiar form that melded into it. She slung a single arm and leg up over the wall of matted blankets beside her, and came to a comfortable rest upon her stomach, her breath hot against the age, flattened pillow her head nestled against.

“Yessss…” She purred, rubbing her nose into the pillows cold casing.

Over the sound of her own content murmuring she faintly heard Akamaru’s tired grumbles, his feet vanishing from out of the corner of her eyes as he curled into himself and settled down for sleep.

Sleep...

Sleep sounded like a good idea….

\----------------------

With a startled gasp, Kurenai leaped back into the world of consciousness, her hands tearing free from the blankets with clumsy uncertainty, eyes darting the length of her empty room in the search for nothing. A search which found just that.

Nothing.

Pressing her fumbling hands to her chest, Kurenai breathed deeply through her trembling lips, trying to slow the unsteady pounding of her heart. She could hear the blood pounding in her head, masking the muted sounds of her own panting.

Calm down….

She exhaled until her lungs burned from the collapse, throat giving a tiny jump when at last she allowed the sweet pour of air to trickle into her starved lungs.

Despite the start that had wrenched her from her sleep, her mind drew a blank when she attempted to recall the gist of her dreaming. She poked and prodded, and hummed and hawed. But it was simply gone. Another banished thought from her unconsciousness. A thought that had woken her in the middle of the night, body rigid and thrashing, with her undershirt sticking wetly to her sweat drenched body.

Rolling over onto her back, Kurenai peeled the soaked shirt off and flung it away from the bed, the sweat heavy garment hitting to floor with a wet squelch. Hooking her thumbs into the band of her panties, she slipped the tiny pair of silk undies from off her body, her brows vanishing into her hairline almost instantly.

Well…. At least she now understood the nature of her forgotten dream.

Holding up the pair of silk panties in the light of the filtered moonlight, she ran a hesitant thumb over the soak material, the lush fabric visibly glistening with her juices. And it was then that her mind came a leaping question. When was the last time she had properly taken care of herself? Weeks? Months? She laughed at her own lack of intimacy, the sound escaping her throat in a tiny hollow whimper.

With the same abandonment as shown to her soaked undershirt, Kurenai tossed the pair of arousal drenched panties away from her, the scrunched up garment tumbling off the foot of the bed and vanishing from view.

Well, why waste a crotch full of moisture.

With her knees bent and feet planted in the mess of coiled sheeting, Kurenai’s fingers slipped wordlessly between her parted thighs, fingers fumbling for an awkward moment. Like the familiar saying of never forgetting how to ride a bike, it only took a drawn moment for her fingers to jump into action. Repeating an act they knew so well.

Wetness smeared across her curious touch, coating her fingers in the slick molten heat that pooled between her parted thighs. Rubbing at the tiny wisps of neatly trimmed hair, Kurenai was slow and careful with her self teasing, fingers never traveling too close to the tiny bundle of nerves that pulsed for attention. It wouldn't be right to get off right away.

And orgasm was something to nurture and grow.

To feed with pleasure until it forces itself into existence and bloomed into something beautiful.

Toes curling against the sheeting, Kurenai whimpered at the tortuous teasing she willingly endured, a single hand traveling upwards to grasp at a soft nipple, pinching the tiny bud between thumb and forefinger. Fingers grinding from side to side, she winced at the increasing pressure of her own grip, teeth sinking into the plush of her bottom lip to stiffen the hiss of discomfort. And it was only when she deemed the poor little nipple thoroughly teased that she released it, giving one last hard squeeze, the pale flesh darkened with risen blood.

And never one to show favoritism, the attention of her fingers quickly found the unabused nipple and repeated the harsh exercise. With her fingers stroking frantically at the drenched flesh between her thighs, she dipped the soaked tip of a single finger slowly inside the burning heat, stirring up sticky wetness until her fingers pruned with the excess moisture, a second and third finger joining the single digit until all three were buried up to the second knuckle in the Kurenai’s tight heat. With a pace slow enough to age an immortal, Kurenai thrusted into herself, stretching her fingers as long as they could get, dulled fingernails scraping along her inner walls. 

“Shit…” She murmured, her face drawn up into a look of set concentration, brows pulled together and lips parted a sliver of an inch. With the next withdrawal of her fingers, she bumped the bony ridge of her knuckle against her clit, the tiny bundle of overworked nerves soaring to life with the hard little nudge. It only took a quivering moment for the direct attention on her clit to become too much for her, the over stimulation of the tiny pearl forcing her fingers to fluttered upwards a fingertip length, stroking the sensitive hood that usually housed her clit.

Feeling the trickle of juices starting to slither down her thighs and over the swell of her cheeks, she slipped her fingers back into the soaked tightness of her clenching heat, her other hand renewing its attention as she pawed at a breast, squeezing a nipple hard between two knuckles, the sound of the world around her fading out beneath the gasping whimpers that sprouted from her own parted lips.

Her eyes rolled back within her head, lids fluttering with the tiny strained movement that vibrated beneath them, long lashes fanning against her blush warmed cheeks.

Gradually it was the leisurely pace that became too much for her, her fingers quickening their pace to a harsh wrist bending thrust, fingers delving as deep as they could manage into her greedy slit, walls clenching down around the fingers with each pull out. Her hand abandoned the hardened nipple without wait, the five digits quickly taking up refuge between her thighs, just like its pair. But unlike the hand that thrusted back and forth, the newly added fingers set up camp against her clit, stroking the tiny unhidden pearl with a newfound urgency, the promise of release quivering just over the horizon.

The tiny mews of pleasure that had once spewed from her lips turned hard, voice clipping as she continued to frantically stroke at her clit and thrust into her aching cunt, her efforts leading to only one place. A big fat metaphorical wall of nowhere, the spike of euphoric pleasure tapering off into a frustrating gentle burn that lingered deep within her pelvis, that sought after orgasm slipping further and further away.

“Ah-Nnnoo… Shi-” Angling her fingers, she desperately tried to fight for her receding orgasm, fingers bearing down hard against a spongy section of inner wall that made sparks burst beneath her eyelids and the muscles to spasm along her inner thighs. But it seemed that even with the pressure dealt upon the delicate patch of nerve endings, her strive for release was a losing battle.

Choking upon a frustrated moan, her mind did not recognize the slight dip in the bed that leaned her to favor her right side, her face scrunching up in blind agony. But at the cold and wet prodding of something against her inner thigh, Kurenai at last let her eyelids crack open a sliver, her look of confusion swiftly morphing into one of wide eyed shock. Staring back up at her from between her widespread thighs, was the forgotten nin dog whose presence had completely slipped her mind. And as Akamaru dragged his nose across a soaked thigh and breathed deeply the scent of her arousal, Kurenai’s stupefied fingers managed to snap into action, fingers grasping at the base of his flopped ears and tugging him back by them.

“Nah-” Her scolding didn't even manage to form a complete sentence before Akamaru’s tongue was upon her, the fat organ darting out to lash the entire length of her arousal swollen pussy, the rough taste buds upon his tongue tugging at her clit with little care.

And it was with the same dedication the canine showed in cleaning his dinner dish at the end of the night, that he devoured the savory treat he had managed to stumble upon, ignoring the incessant tugging at his ears as he lapped at the trickling wetness between Kurenai's thighs. Thighs in which now squeezed down upon each side of his head, tightening further with each drawn lick he happily delivered.

And despite how badly Kurenai wanted to yell at the canine for his outrageous actions, each time her brain managed to form a sentence and give the command to her lips, instead of a harsh scolding slipping out, she found herself suffocating in helpless little moans and whimpers. And as if being rewarded for her restrained mews of pleasure, the throaty sounds helped to speed up the tongue that lapped at her core until it pulsed with reawakened need, juices spilling down her thighs and darkening the bedding beneath her backside with wetness.

“Akamaru! Staah-Nnn!” Back arching like a tightly drawn bow, she outright squealed as his broad tongue wiggled its way inside of her, pushing past the deepest her dainty fingers had managed to reach with ease, the fat organ swirling up her insides. And it was at that moment that the hands once tugging at his ears, began to pull in the opposite direction, buckled fingers searching for purchase as they curled back to lace into the coarse mane around his thick throat. White knuckled fingers matting into his fur in a desperate clutch, her head snapping back in undeniable pleasure, her mind having little time to assess the situation with a level head, thoughts a muddled mess of shame, disgust, and need.

A need to feel the touch of another giving her what she so desired, and deserved. To reward her days of endless field work, and allow her mind to forget the nights of sleepless tossing, and unreachable orgasms.

Her hips began to roll without her approval, leaving her to grind hard down upon the fat wiggling appendage, which dragged along her sensitive inner walls with long, flat strokes. Tasting every inch of offered flesh with a lack of hesitation, greedily lapping up the sticky wetness that coated her walls until his saliva trickled down her thighs in a corrupted mixture of drool and juices, darkening the growing wet spot that was rapidly expanding beneath her backside.

“Almost. Almost. Almost-” Like an overplayed record, the single word squeezed itself from from her lips in a mumbling repeat, each separate ‘Almost’ rising a level in pitch until with every stroke of Akamaru’s tongue, Kurenai gave a shaky squeal and jerked her hips to meet his inward thrust.

Almost there. Almost there. Almost-

And like a well flung Kunai, Akamaru’s fur slipped free from between her threaded fingers, the tongue that she so desperately pounded upon slipping from out of her sopping pussy, leaving her to grind her against nothing. Her insides burned with the loss of the swirling tongue that had swept against her g-spot in such a lazy flutter, the pale pink of her inner walls left on temporary display from the slight stretching it had endured so readily.

She was sitting up within a sluggish heartbeat, eyes wide as her gaze snapped to the empty space between her legs, the mammoth canine no longer taking up residence within the apex of her plush thighs. Instead he stood at the base of her bed, hind legs securely planted on the floor, and front legs braced upon the mattress. The fur that lined his muzzle was slicked back with her arousal, his tongue darting out every few seconds to mop at the delicious nectar that had managed to soak into his fur. And with his front legs splayed wide apart and his chest puffed out, Kurenai’s gaze almost instantly zeroed in on a splash of red against the white background of Akamaru’s burly body, a finger length of thick swollen flesh peeking from over the rim of the pale sheath that jutted out from between his parted thighs.

With greedy handfuls of bedding captured in her clenched fists, Kurenai teetered in uncertainty, her tongue peeking out from the corner of her thinned lips. She could already feel a blush beginning to seep its way down her shoulders and redden the pale, unmarked flesh of her upper chest, embarrassment rearing its regretful head in an unfortunate moment of clarity.

“Akamaru…” She stammered, her gaze securely locked upon the teasing glimpse of cock that drooled a constant trickle of pre onto her hardwood floor, a thickening inch of new flesh slipping free at the sound of his name upon her lips. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and remained lolled out the side of his parted jaws, the once silent hiss of his breath turning into an excited gasp of a pant.

After so many months of having nothing more than her own dainty fingers to pleasure herself, the thought of a nice thick cock taking up the task was rather… delightful. Hell, upon further recollection of her past couplings, she couldn't even recall the last time she had, had a nice piece of meat pounding into her. Stirring up her insides until she came with anothers name upon her lips….

Her thighs squeezed together at the thought, core clenching around nothing. An empty cavity that desperately needed filling.

“This stays between us, understand?”Her voice was startlingly even, when she blurted out the question, the harsh openness of her demand earning her a tilted look from the sexually charged canine. “I am serious, Akamaru. Not even Kiba. This-” She motioned between them both with two fingers, her attention flickering to admire her juice coated fingertips. “Stays between us. Understand?”Her repeat of the question was met with an excited nod from the canine, his ears flopping as his head bobbed.

“Alright.. Alright.” She tilted her head slowly to the side, gaze focused upon the bed for a thoughtful moment. With Akamaru’s impressive height, she doubted the canine would be able to mount her, . The canine was simply too large. And even if it was possible, the springs in the bed would probably make it difficult for the canine to remain balanced.

So with a nod of her head, Kurenai scooted herself down to the end of the bed, turning over upon her stomach as she wiggled her way in between his parted front legs and continued backwards until her feet hit the floor, and she was left standing underneath Akamaru in a near identical standing position as him. But with her legs spread wide apart, and her upper body resting flush against the surface of the bed, the looming canine easily overshadowed the trembling kunoichi.

Tentatively she stretched her arms out taut and grasped at the lengths of knotted bedsheeting that she had once been covered in, shoulder blades rising to press herself to the patiently waiting canine. She could feel the pull of his muscles as they bunched up beneath her touch, and hear the harsh intake of his panted breath as he breathed, muzzle hanging inches inches above her head.

The paws that had rested upon the bed at each side of her body, rose and fell in quick little steps, stubby claws hooking into the bedding until tiny gouge marks tore their way into the fabric. Perhaps she would scold his actions later, at a less interesting moment. For when he shifted against her again, and his paws left the surface of the mattress to hook at the swell of her hips, the minimal destruction of her bedding was the last thing on her mind. No, the curious little bumping of his hips against hers was all she could think about.

It was a hesitant little push, the hulking hound grinding himself up against her backside, smearing watery ropes of pre against the globes of her ass. His head fell to rest against her shoulder, parted jaws looming inches from the left side of her face, the hot tickle of his breath warming her blush stained cheeks.

She could feel the wet prodding tip of his cock pressed to the side of her hip for a moment, before he shifted against her again, blindly searching for a warm place to bury himself within the tiny female. And when Kurenai was almost ready to reach between her legs and offer assistance in the canines searching, she felt the rigid tip of Akamaru’s cock flutter along the lips of her pussy. Instantly the hazardous jerking of his hips came to a swift end, Kurenai’s entire body rocketing forward against the bed frame as the once curious little jerking morphed into a hard pound, his hips smacking against her backside with each pound. Her feet slid against the hardwood floor as traction was momentarily lost, ankles angling outwards and toes spreading wide to right herself. The couple inches of Akamaru’s cock that she had originally seen, slipped into her rather easily, her soaking walls clenching down around the invading thumb length of meat. But with each unsteady thrust forward of his hips, the meager amount of inches within her grew startlingly quickly, stretching her walls wide to accommodate the canines rapidly swelling member.

Fingers clenching and knuckles white with strain, Kurenai clung desperately to the bedsheeting, each desperate pounding of Akamaru’s hips sending her skitting forward until her pelvis was trapped snuggly against the foot of the bed. Dulled claws raked across the underside of her belly, drawing up tiny crimson welt marks in their journey.

Her voice was lost in a sea of whimpered mews, mouth left agape as she sandwiched her face against the mattress, the smooth bed cover caressing her face with each hard pound of Akamaru’s hips, sending her body dragging back and forth.

There was nothing slow about Akamaru, the phrase ‘Making love’ not evening coming to mind. No, even ‘fucking’ was too clean, too mundane. No, like the wild beasts of his untrained ancestors, Akamaru mating her like she was just another bitch in heat, trapping her securely beneath his body and forcing as much of his cock into her as possible, the thick vein covered shaft crammed almost uncomfortably into her clenching cunt. Filling her to a degree that past lovers had never even come close to achieving. If this had been a race, Akamaru had crossed the finish line while the other runners were still scratching their asses.

But no, there was no race. There was only Akamaru.

A free flowing river of juices and watery precum streamed down her thighs, adding a wet squelching noise with each move of Akamaru’s hips, his pounding cock forcing her wetness to ooze around the tight fit. This was a pleasure she had never expected to experience in her lifetime, the overstimulation of her body wavering between wonderfully exquisite, and painfully wonderful. With the thickness of his fat shaft, every inch of flesh within her was assaulted at once, each sensitive bump and delicate groove finding itself under constant pressure, the bulging veins on his cock rubbing her insides raw.

And it was then that the unknown rhythm of his hips broke, the steady pounding turning into a hard humping as he threw himself against her shapely rear, no longer withdrawing any more than an inch of swollen flesh from inside of her clenched walls. Instead, he seemed intent to shove every inch that he could fit into her, the elasticity of her inner walls caving beneath his demands until the fur lined rim of his sheath skewed up against the lips of her pussy, her insides distorted around his hefty cock as he banged and bumped around inside of her.

Eyelids falling until they rested at half mast, she strained to see the world beyond the tip of her nose, the garbled twang of her own desperate moans sounding foreign in the ear of their creator.

A wet splat of drool cascaded down her shoulder in thick milky strings, the harsh heave of Akamaru’s panted breath echoing in her ear channel. The tip of his tongue lolled within the corner of her vision, the protruding organ decorated with a stringy web of unfallen moisture, the ropes of thick saliva swaying with the canines unsteady pounding. The strands only breaking when their weight became too much, and they were sent shattering across the sheets like shards of fragmented hand grenades.

And as her mind wandered for that strangely poetic moment, the looped recording of her moans gave a startled jerk, her throat clenching as she sputtered out a whimpered gasp, hips jerking forward desperately. Trying and failing to escape the short-lived flash of pain that erupted within her crammed inner walls, the thick base of Akamaru’s cock seeming to swell within her, stretching her farther and farther apart to house the bulbous fleshy sphere that bulged around the base of his member. Her body forced to strain against the pressure within her, inner walls clenching down securely around the swollen knot as Akamaru continued to move against her, pushing the fattened orb of flesh as deep as he could, only to jerk backwards and send it crashing against the inner opening of her pussy, bodily dragging her against the mattress with his thrusting.

“Ahh-Nnn...Aaaah‘Maru!” She choked upon her own garbled sentence, eyelids slipping tightly shut and throat clenching. With numbed fingers she clawed at the bed, her body jerking forward as stilled hips began to churn, her walls strangling the poor Canines cock as she welcomed the slow burn of her orgasm, sobbing her release as the world came crashing down around her in a moment of blaring silence. Desperate to stiffen the tiny shrieks that pulled at the back of her throat, Kurenai sunk her teeth into her own forearm, the taste of copper tickled her tongue when her teeth broke through the thin layer of flesh on her arm. The wince of pain that crossed her face was quickly forgotten as Akamaru gave one last clumsy jerk of his hips and froze against her, a shiver arching her body as at last he came deep within her clenching cunt, reawakening her orgasm.

An seemingly endless flood of thick seed poured into her already crammed cunt, every single drop trapped by the thick knot securely wedged within the opening of her pussy. And with nowhere to go, the generous amount of thick canine cream began to spill greedily into her womb and distend her belly, her pussy clenching down around him and selfishly milking every drop it could get from the canine. After all, wasn't it hers for the taking?

Quivering above her, Akamaru remained silent and still, his upper body practically smothering her to the bed as he leaned his weight against her, the sound of their gasping breaths bounding about the silent room.

With his thick knot crammed within her and cock continuing to slowly pumping her full of his seed, Kurenai was content to remain where she was beneath him, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion and throat burned raw from her now silenced moaning.

She just needed a moment to catch her breath…

Just a moment.

\----------------------

Mindful of the persistent ache between her legs, Kurenai lifted herself from off the couch and went to answer the loud pounding of someone's fist striking against her apartment door, the tell-tale clack of claws on hardwood floor following in her wake. Swinging the door open, she eyed the mud drenched Inuzuka before her, his tattooed face etched with a pout that reminded her of his Genin days.

“Oh! Umm…” Kiba stuttered under the sharp heel of her glare, fidgeting with the cuffs of his jacket. Did he really think she had forgotten he had dumped his partner on her, without asking?

“Kiba. Next time you want me to look after Akamaru-” She stepped forward and into his personal space, gaze trailing slowly across his throat with narrowed crimson orbs, her hand rising to trail that same path in a clear threat. “-you ask me in person. Is that understood?” His head bobbed in a blur of shaggy brown hair, eyes wide and mouth agape. Slowly she drew her finger back along his adams apple and stepped back into her apartment, shooing the mammoth canine out to be with its owner after one last pat to his broad head.

“You’re welcome here anytime you want, Akamaru.”


	2. Hinata

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No longer the runt that had once ridden upon Kiba's shoulder, Akamaru can finally begin to enjoy the finer things in life. Like the beautiful women of the hidden village. (Akamaru/Different Females)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Naruto or any characters from it. As well, I make no money from this fanfic.
> 
> (Unbeta'd story. All grammatical errors and spelling mistakes are my own.)

\-------------------

The Charm of a Dog

Chapter 2: Hinata

\-------------------

How the run down little Inn had managed to stay in business for so long, was beyond Hinate. She has seen burnt down villages with more appealing than the room she had stepped into, hand caught frozen upon the door knob as disgust settled within the pit of her stomach.

At first glance of the room advertised as ‘Luxurious’ by the Inn’s greasy haired owner, she couldn't help but be faintly worried for her health…. and of what strain of flesh eating bacteria she might become infected with, if she so much as stepped past the threshold.

Surely it would be the kind that melted her insides…

“Should have sprung for a better room…” Hinata nodded at her own admittance, the corner of her lips curling up with a disgusted snarl. Shying from the light pooling in from the opened door, a fattened cockroach made a mad dash beneath the bed, tiny legs making an audible _Sch Sch Sch_ against the scarred wooden floorboards.

_Okay, nope. No-no-no-no._

With her hands kept securely at her side, Hinata took a hesitant step into the room. Taking in the full experience with awe. Having suffered from aged water damage, the off-pink wall paper had bubbled and was beginning to peel from off the walls in thick strips, displaying the unstripped paper that still resided beneath. Uncovering an unholy tinge of vomit orange.

At least the bed look relatively clean.

Kunai in hand, she speared the fabric and gave it a mighty tug to free the tucked cloth from beneath the mattress. Sheets that had perhaps once been white looked like they could have taken part in a murder, blots of dried blood flecked across the entire length. Stained into the white sheeting after one too many washes.

With a freshly laid grimace settling across her face, Hinata pulled her kunai free and stepped quickly back. “Okay…” She breathed deeply, trying without much luck to calm the rising annoyance that bubbled up from her chest, a single eyebrow twitching. “Don’t kill the owner…. It’s okay.” Exhaling loudly, she nearly choked on the bitter taste of dust and grime, a single hand rising to cover her mouth and nose.

Maiming did not technically count as killing…

Scooping up the tiny rucksack she had dropped in the doorway, Hinata left the unkempt room and hurriedly put as much distance between it and herself as possible, fingers resecuring her mask back upon her face. The tight scowl on her lips hidden behind the face of a pale, grinning wolf.

Her admittance into the ranks of Anbu had been both thrilling, and terrifying. A chance to further prove herself more than a failure, while also stepping away from the security of her personal bubble.

The position forcing her into situations that at one point, would have brought a flush to her face and a stutter to her throat. Even now, she had yet to fully shake off the restricting bonds of her discomfort. Hiding behind her mask like it was a lifeline, the simple piece of wood offering her anonymity.

Jostled from her thoughts, Hinata took a sharp step to the side as a wail screeched from behind one of the closed doors, growing steadily in pitch her entire journey down the empty hallway. Only to end with a squeal Hinata could only describe as… constipated.

Knuckles rapping against a door crookedly labeled ‘Managers Office’, the young Hyuga cracked open the door without waiting for her knocking to be answered.

Sitting behind a paper strewn desk was the same man who had assigned her earlier room, his nose buried in Jiraiya’s latest book. Blind to the world around him, he did not so much as glance up from the pages.

“Don’t mind me, just switching rooms. Continue with your reading.” Still the man did not appear to have heard, his glazed eyes skimming frantically down the page with a look of urgency smeared across his rounded face.

Hung on the wall behind the man was a rack of keys, a room number displayed in thick bolded print above each key. The empty number slots indicating a room in use. Returning her key to its correct hook, Hinata snagged one labeled ‘Suite’ in bright red cursive lettering.

Hopefully it would be more appealing than the lovely roachnest she had been given.

“Thank you for the new room, Sir.” Hinata murmured, door closing behind her with a quiet click. She would give the owner a chance to make up for the disaster of a room she had been previously given. A single chance would not hurt…

Although that did depend on how the supposed ‘Suite’ turned out.

Key in hand, Hinata retraced her steps down the same hall she had taken moments ago. Passing her previously given room without so much as a glance, the room put far behind her as she turned yet another corner in the maze of hallways. Stomach curling with uncertainty the farther she walked, going so far as to stop multiple times and glance behind her.

Noticeably, the farther she went from her previous room, the better the condition of the hall around her seemed to be in. Walls whitewashed and hardwood floors glinting with a newly polished sheen. There wasn't even a roach in sight. Even the door numbers looked newly shined, her door sporting the same cursive writing she had spotted in the manager's office.

The title of ‘Suite’ tacked boldly beneath the doors number.

Hinata wasn't sure what she had been expecting upon opening the door…. but this had definitely not crossed her mind.

Varying shades of red decorated every inch of the room, carpets a bruised crimson and walls a classy rouge. The bed positioned directly in the middle of the vast space, massive and swollen with pillows. Looking both gaudy and tempting at the same time.

Door shutting behind her, Hinata tossed her satchel to the bed and allowed curiosity to get the better of her. Opening drawers and peeking inside of closed doors, noting that both the closet and bathroom were decorated in a similar color scheme as the main room.

And that the bathroom had far more mirrors than needed for a single room.  

Hinata stopped as she caught sight of her reflection in the vanity mirror, her hand rising to touch the ANBU mask secured around her face.

It had been almost six years since Orochimaru had been defeated and so much had changed in her life. Her stutter had slowly gone away with the improvement of her confidence, the ties of her family strengthening as she stepped forward and embraced her own desire to become stronger.  Even her shyness had began to settle down, her friendship with Naruto evolving to that of a brother/sister bond. The whisker-cheeked Nin taking up the role of a mischievous little brother, always more than willing to drag her out of her shell in the name of a good prank.

The things they had done together...

But, it was not only Hinata’s personality that had improved, her appearance had as well. Her confining jacket replaced with a pair of traditional ninja shorts and a sleeveless black tank top. Arms and legs covered in black netting, her own flare of personality shining through in the form of a well-fitting black vest.

The Vest hosting a generous amount of pockets for the many tools of her trade.

“Well..” She began with uncertainty, slipping her mask free from her face. “It's better than the previous one, no arguing there.” With one last glance at herself in the mirror, Hinata turned towards the bed. Mask discarded on the dresser with the utmost of care, fingers tracing the flash of teeth carved into the wood.

The gentle tap-tap-tap of rapping fingers drew Hinata’s attention to the bedrooms lone window, her lips parting in a silent ‘Ooooh’ of realization. Wrestling with the windows lock, a blurr of black dropped heavily to the floor when at last she managed to yank the sticky framed apart. A familiar bear mask smiling sinisterly up at her.

“Sorry for the wait, Ursa.” With her half-hearted apology out of the way, the window was relatch and silencing charms reactivated. Curtains pulled tightly shut to cover the wide window frame, offering them temporary privacy from the worlds watching eyes.

“Its not much to look at, but make yourself comfortable. It will have to do for the night.” Ursa nodded quietly in reply, masked face cocking as he glanced about the room with lazy interest.

Anbu partnerships were usually short lived due to the stress of their occupation, working together in pairs or teams for only long enough to become accustomed to each other, before being reassigned and forced to break those familiarities. A surefire method to limit the bonding experience between partners.

Nothing quite dampened a person's skills like watching someone you had come to care about die.

So understandably it was strange that Hinata’s grinning wolf alias was always accompanied by a sinister bear, as it had been for the last several years. A length of Anbu partnership that was unheard of.

But….

Ursa’s calloused hands made quick work of the standard Anbu white vest he still insisted in wearing, his own wooden mask gently set down beside Hinata’s on the dresser.

Having been hardened from age and experience, her partners once boyish good looks had sharpened and defined with maturity, skin sunkissed and cheeks adorned with the facial tattoos his clan shared.

With quiet curiosity he followed Hinata’s earlier snooping, bathroom door shut as quick as it were open. Eyes downcast and lips thin.

Avoiding the image staring back at him from the mirrored bathroom wall. A habit he had never quite been able to shake, more than content to ignore the face staring back at him in the reflective surface.

The face of his lost counterpart.

Smiling sadly to herself, Hinata situated herself at the end of the bed. Feet raised from off the floor from the bed's height, shoes kicked off and left where they fell.

Kiba’s death had been unexpected, of course. Felled by a cowardly Nin that despite their best efforts, had never been brought to justice for the young Inuzuka’s murder so many years ago.

With the loss of their young member having left the Inuzuka clan reeling, mother, sister, and partner suffering with his death in their own private ways.

Akamaru had taken it the hardest, in Hinata’s opinion.

Kiba had been his entire life, afterall. The reason for his strength and the training he had been lucky enough to take part in. The first friend he had ever had... Without Kiba, there was little for him in the world.

Hinata had somehow become a key player In the clans best efforts to soothe the distraught beast. A familiar entity for the hound to grasp onto for comfort, trailing after her at all hours of the day and even demanding entrance into her apartment in the late hours of the night. Baying at her door until she begrudgingly left the comforts of her bed and allowed him inside to sprawl over the end of her bed in exhaustion.

And now, three years later the young Hyuuga could not imagine life without her silent shadow trudging lazily beside her. The canine only taking on the appearance of his deceased partner during missions, and even then he hid behind his Anbu mask at most times. Avoiding reflective surfaces like the plague.

With his mask carefully set atop the nightstand and his vest slung over a chair, in a plume of smoke Ursa reverted to his default form. A massive bear of a dog, fur shaggy and shoulders broad. The largest of the canines bred into the Inuzuka clan since Kiba’s birth.

With a lazy stretch and a wide-mouthed yawn, he slunk his way onto the silk covered bed and claimed the right side as his own, slanted gaze staring up at her expectantly after he had made himself comfortable on the plush mattress.

After ruffling the excess fur tufted atop his head, Hinata shed her clothes along the way to the bedroom door. Making certain that it was locked before flicking the lights off and casting the room in a blanket of darkness, flecks of moonlight seeping through the tightly shut blinds. On her way back to the bed she gathered her clothing up without thought and left them piled on the floor at the foot of the bed.

Leaving her in a pair of plain black panties and her white undershirt, impressive bust no longer held in place by the tight clutch of her fishnettings.

“Bedtime, buddy.” Pulling back the silken sheets, Hinata crawled under the rich layers of cloth and turned her back to the canine, scooting closer to him until her back pressed up against his side, the layer of sheeting separating flesh from fur.

Sleeping with her back to Akamaru was second nature at this point in her life, a wall of muscle that offered comfort and security, often lulling her to sleep with the knowledge of his looming presence.

Watching over her as she slept… her silent guardian.

Voice flickering with creeping sleep, she bid a quiet, “Night” to the partially dozing dog. At last letting sleep claim her in its welcoming arms, pulling her into the realm of unconsciousness and allowing her to enjoy a night of dreamless sleep.

Just as she preferred it.

\--------------------------

There were many ways to describe the colossal fuck-up of a day the pair had endured.

Their initial mission had been simple enough, a short blood-filled afternoon of quelling a local gang that had gotten violent. Village-less Nin’s attacking normal, untrained civilians..

And really, trained men and woman attacking the helpless? The true action of a coward.

But that had nothing to do with the cluster-fuck that was their day. It had actually been a nice, almost relaxing mission. A big change from their usually go-go-go pace, staking out the rundown warehouse the disorganized gang had forcefully claimed as their base of operations. Watching members come and go from the buildings single entrance. Windows boarded and securely blocked off from intruders. But windows were never Hinata and Akamaru’s preferred method of entry.

Coming in through the front door had always been their go-to way of getting attention when dealing with half-ass trained nins, a morbid game of seeing who could down the most enemies before having to dodge.

Akamaru’s top score of seventeen still standing tauntingly out of Hinata’s reach.

For the time being.

No, it had been a single moment of distraction that ended with Hinata sprawled on her back, hands grasping at blood slicked forearms as what she had thought to be a dead body, proved to be very much alive. The man's heavy weight bearing down upon her, forcing her arms tightly against her chest as he freely bled himself dry atop her. The white paint of her mask washed with a sticky layer of spewed blood, eyes burning down at her with aged hostility and an unquenchable rage that poured from every fiber of his being.

A sharp spike of fear was instantly upon her, lancing up the strain of her locked arms and clawing through her usually stoic demeanor. Bringing a tremble to clenched fingers and a gasp to her parted lips.

It had been so long since she had remembered what fear felt like…

As quickly as the man had managed to knock her to the ground and stain her with his blood, Ursa was upon him. Wrenching the dying man off of her, and casting him to the side with ease.

Like a heavy ragdoll, the man topped over himself and came to a crumpled heap against a wooden support beam. The tiniest of gleeful laughs parted from his bloodied lips before he gurgled his last wet breath and became what Hinata had originally thought him to be.

Another dead man to be forgotten.

The scent of his blood hung heavily upon the downed Hyuga, soaking into every gasp of breath she managed to choke down. Heavy and bitter upon her tongue, the sound of his frantic little laugh bouncing around inside of her head. She felt… strangely light headed.

Just breath. It's okay, it's okay. Breath.

With his head cocked to the side in worry, Ursa remained motionless beside her sprawled body. Arms frozen, fingers left crooked and clawed. Flecks of meat packed beneath his lengthened nails. He was always so patient with her, waiting without prompt for her nerves to stitch themselves back together and the veil of fear to release its grip upon her frantically beating heart.

It wasn't until she offered him her hand that he assisted her to her feet. The subtle rise and fall of his masked face the only indication that he was looking her over for injury, the pair unwilling to breath the silence that stretched across the warehouse. The dead quiet where they had been felled, floor a mess of strewn corpses and destroyed furniture. Their mission an unquestionable success.

Deeming her wounds superficial and the blood soaked into her clothing not her own, Ursa stiffly made his way back to the entrance of the warehouse, stepping over bodies in his retreat. Not even giving her time to catch up before he was out the door, most likely heading back to their inn room.

Already Hinata would sense the turmoil brewing silently within him, his usually impeccable posture slouched forward with the hard arch of his shoulders. Nimble fingers clenched into white knuckled fists, letting the sharp of his extended nails dig into the hard callus of his palms.

“Fuck” Scuffing the ground with the end of her shoe, Hinata lingered for a long moment in the deathly silence of the warehouse. Cursing her own lack of attention, and the initial pull of fear she had allowed to seep into her being. She was really going to hear about it this time…

With a final sigh of frustration Hinata followed in her partners wake, leaving the dead to their own devices.

\--------------------------

Arriving back at the Inn, Hinata let her eyes flicker into the darkness of their shared room. She could sense Akamaru lingering in the shadows, his heavy gaze weighing hard on her already frazzled nerves. Like the plague itself he kept his distance, watching her retreating form as she slipped through the darkness and into the bathroom. Turning the lights on only after the door had been clicked shut, a strip of light visible from the crack that separated door from floor.

Stripping off her blood soaked clothes and leaving them balled up in the sink, Hinata stepped into the shower. Setting the water hot enough to sting her skin as it rained down upon her, pinkening her flesh and washing away the scent of the man’s blood, copper tinted water swirling down the drain as it ran from off her.

With her back to it, she scrubbed until her skin felt raw. And then scrubbed some more, the wall of mirrors clouding over with a layer of fog. Air hot and humid, heavy in her lung as she breathed.

God she had fucked up…

Turning the water off and stepping from the shower stall, Hinata took more time than needed in drying herself off. Ringing the water from her hair and toweling herself off in the spacious bathroom, teeth worrying at her bottom lip.

Since her placement in Akamaru’s life, Hinata had gone through many roles to get where she was today with the canine. She could never be a replacement for his lost counterpart, after all.

She had been a caretaker for when he had first lost Kiba, taking daily trips to her lost teammates grave with food for the distraught nin-dog that refused to budge from the freshly laid plot.

She had been a familiar face in a sea of unfamiliarity, where everywhere Akamaru went the same looks followed him. Looks of pity and false understanding. Like they could understand the loss he had been subjected to… the loss of having half of his reality torn from him in an instant.

No, they knew nothing.

Hinata had played so many different roles since the death of Kiba. But it was only in the last year her longstanding role of ‘Anbu Partner’ had been toppled and replaced with a resounding ‘ **_Mine_ ** ’.

It wasn't surprising that constantly being in each others presence had developed into something… more. The occasional sideways glance that lingered for too long to be considered innocent, to be considered anything but staring…. Admiring….. Undressing.

Hinata had brushed it off at first as nothing more than curiosity. They were still figuring out how their partnership was going to work, after all.

But then came the possessiveness. Akamaru lingering at her side, pressed against her thigh and requiring the barest of attention to remain placid and compliant, the presence of her hand against his mane at nearly all times. And a man touching her? Actually laying his hands on her, and dirtying her scent with his foulness? Ya, that was out of the question.

Even friends she had gone to school with were no exception. People in Konoha had learned to keep their hands off of what did not belong to them, the overall impression being that the canine was simply being ‘protective’ of his partner. Not wanting a repeat performance of losing someone he had come to care for.

But Hinata knew better… she had felt the way his hackles rose when someone touched her beyond that of a ‘normal’ greeting. She had heard the sour rumble of a growl roll in his throat. She had melted under the heavy heat of his gaze, watching her with an emotion that she had once been unable to decipher.

Looking at her like…. Like he wanted to devour every cell of her being, until she ceased to exist. Until the very basic nature of her humanity was stripped away from her and she was just… ‘ **_Mine_ ** ’

And she was. She was his, every inch of her.

Breathing deeply to settle the churning of her stomach, Hinata dropped her towel to the floor and opened the door, flicking the light off behind her as she moved into the darkness. Her eyes strained to overcome the blackness around her, head held high and gaze directed forward into the pitch. She couldnt see him, but she knew he was there. Watching her, letting his gaze trace over her nude form. Taking in the sparse collection of scraps and cuts she had earned from her scuffle. Each little imperfection a reminder of her folly, of her mistake.

She breathed a loud, shuddering sigh. Throat clenching and hands flinching, wanting nothing more than to wring her hands together in front of her. It was a past habit she still fought to overcome.

Treading lightly she made her way into the darkness, eyes focusing enough to make out the outlines of furniture. And the figure sitting stiffly in the chair near the window, the white of Ursa’s mask catching a glint of moonlight.

Staring with a wide, sinister smile in her direction. Waiting, always waiting.

Hands pressed to the edge of the bed, she felt her way up the newly tucked silk sheets, crawling up the length of the mattress on hands and knees. Settling on her stomach with her feet just peeking over the foot of the bed, hands positioned at each side of her hand. Fisting the silk sheets in tight handfuls.

Despite their ability to move without sound, Ursa’s footsteps fell heavy with each step closer. The bed dipping with his weight, callused hands sliding up the bare of her thighs in silent worship. Fingertips feathering over the curve of her ass, palming a single fleshy cheek.

Even while out of his canine form, Akamaru was a presence that loomed in the frazzled mess of her mind. She strained to hear his breath, the gasping current muffled against the wood that covered his face. Covered the face of a dead man.

The first strike came without warning, tearing a sharp little cry from Hinata’s lips, toes curling and back arching.

He hovered over her, a glint of white visible just out of her peripheral vision.

“Mine” Akamaru rarely; if ever, spoke. It was an ability capable of his transformed body… just not one he had interest in. The human language was a bothersome, complex thing to comprehend.

“Miinnneeee” He drawled out again, the harsh hiss of his voice drawing a shudder down Hinata’s back. Reminding her that yes… she was his. And she had been stupid to-

In quick succession strike two, three, four, and five were dealt. Every flesh cracking slap delivered to the same cheek, brightening the pale, supple flesh to a vibrant shade of crimson. She fought to remain quiet under the harsh blows, body taut and shoulders drawn together. Face pressed hard against the cold silk of the sheets, seeking comfort in the lack of warmth.

Roughly he palmed the abused cheek, touch lacking the worship he so often handled her with. His anger clouding over his rationality and screaming, screaming that His Hinata had let some… some useless degenerate lay his hands upon her. Hands that wanted nothing more than to snuff out her life and take her away.

Take her away from him.

The pale, untouched asscheek soon found itself subjected to the hard fall of his hand. Laying down strike six, seven, eight, and nine so quickly it made Hinata’s head spin and her thighs clench. Backside pulsing with the harsh sting left from his unforgiving hand.

Having been brought up in a household that encouraged punishment for wrongful doings, Hinata was no stranger to having her backside tanned. It had actually been a normal punishment until her father had announcer her too old to be subject to such methods. No, training with Neji was enough punishment for her previously weak abilities.

But even with all that behind her, the feeling of a firm reprimanding hand once again gracing her ass brought forth a dizzying mixture of shame and… and need. She had spent half her life blindly seeking approval from others.

Before she had gained Akamaru for a partner… before she had come to see Naruto as her brother… before she had slowly amassed enough self respect to no longer feel useless.

But to once again feel that familiar sting, it was… comforting. To again be punished, and subjected to the disappointment of someone she loved. It made her so.. so..

_Wet._

Hinata squirmed at the palming of a single reddened asscheek, a nearly muted whine forming upon the tip of her tongue. Barely a squeak of noise against the hard gasping of her breath, the rough handling of her scorched ass pooling wetness between her parted thighs. Her hips started to slowly rock unbeknownst to her, an unconscious move as her body reached blindly out for its own pleasure. Grinding her pelvis against the silken sheets, smearing her wetness.

“Please.” She husked out in a quiet, quivering voice. Head craned to the side to stare back at him, pale eyes darkened with her need, face nearly as flushed as her abused ass.

“Miinnnee” Was the reply her pleading earned her, a single hand hooked around the trim of her stomach, tugging her up from her sprawling pose. Manipulating her body until she at last settled upon her knees, his free hand pushing her face back into the saliva dampened sheets. Denying her pleasure of seeing his reversion.

With visible care the sinisterly smiling bear mask was placed just out of harm’s way, nestled into one of the pillows out of Hinata’s reach. The mask staring back at her with its unchanging look of psychotic glee, a little voyeur to watch over them.

It was the soft _pop_ that reach her ears first, followed by the bitter taste of sooty air. Ursa reverting to his default form, as massive and shaggy as ever. Back to being Akamaru, her looming guardian beast.

Loudly, angrily, possessively he snarled aloud, the sound echoing from somewhere above her head.

His massive form hovered over her, powerful forearms slipping to lock around the generous swell of her hips, gripping her tightly to him. Holding her securely in place beneath him, trapped under his palpable frustration. An an endless humm of a growl making itself at home upon his lips.

Not even angry just…. Disappointed.

Despite his reversion, she could still hear the single word he had thrown at her. She could hear it in the way his claws raked over her belly and his hips bumped against her ass, the smothering of his weight pinning her to the bed.

_Mine, mine, mine, mine. Miiinneee._

At the experimental rutting of his hips, Hinata found her thighs parting on their own. Gasping out as the peeking tip of his cock jabbed at the crease of her ass and across her thigh. Searching blindly for the warmth of her sopping core with hurried impatience, smearing watery streaks of precum across her skin.

It did not take long for his cocktip to find the part of her lips, the thin tapered tip slipping into her with ease, drawing a whine from deep within her chest. With the tip snuggled in her plush, clenching cunt, Akamaru’s hips slammed hard against her still tender ass. Pounding hard into her, letting that measly inch of flesh swell and grow within her, slipping deeper and deeper.

Stretching her around it's fattening girth until each rut of his hips was accompanied with a faint sting of pain.

Filling her with so much cock that when he bottomed up inside of her, the tip of his length smashed bruisingly against her cervix. Pounding at the entrance of her womb with enough force to ignite stars behind her clenched eyelids.

Despite how many times she had been stretched tight around his cock, she never could become accustomed to the girth of his meaty length. Often left sore and gaping for days after he had his way with her, even longer if he managed to squeeze his knot into her before it got too big.

Getting fucked by him was always an exquisite mixture of pleasurable pain, her hips jutted upwards to allow his length to pound effortlessly into her, stretching her around him like a plush second skin.

The veiny walls of his cock glancing over every tender nook and cranny inside of her.

Bringing her voice to an ever present whine for more, pleading to be used harder. To feel his possessive hold wash over her as he took, and took, and took.

Until life outside of being _His_ was of no interest to her.

As always she came brutally fast, gasping out his name as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her, drowning her in the hard pulse of her quivering cunt. Clit a tiny pearl of scrapped nerve endings that suffered beneath the harsh pounding of his hips.

Cumming always left her overly sensitive, a fact Akamaru knew perfectly well. A fact that he both ignored and took advantage of, leaving the pinned kunoichi in a constant state of excruciating bliss.

Her orgasm never letting up or dimming in its intensity. Walls fluttering around him and wetness practically streaming down her thighs. Soaking into the silk sheets and corrupting the air with her thick, heady scent.

Overwhelming the canine and bringing a newfound haste to his already relentless rutting.

Hips smacking against her ass with each quick thrust of his cock, length slipping out enough to shower the bedding with droplets of her wetness, only to plow right back inside.

Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat.

Loudly, she whined out for mercy. High pitched whimpers that hummed in the back of her throat as they came to air, pathetic little sounds of plea. Begging for his forgiveness, and well as his attention. Openly attempting to coax her way back into his devotion, to be spoiled with the passion he so often doted on her with.

When she was his good girl.

When his mind did not revert to the thought of ‘what if?’. What if she had actually been injured from the earlier take-down. What if she had followed in the same footsteps as Kiba, and he was again forced to watch his loved one slip out of his grasp.

No, His Hinata had been foolish. She had not yet earned his forgiveness.

Akamaru’s length pulsed inside of her, stirring up her insides and soaking her walls with spurts of watery precum. The already engorged length swelling with his impending release, the round of his thickening knot popping in and out of her with each hard thrust. Growing steadily in size until Hinata’s breath caught in her throat and a fresh wave of wetness coated his length, body quivering beneath his looming form.

Knees shaking like brittle stems, threatening to give way beneath her own weight.

The forearms gripped around her waist tightened and pulled her farther back against the nook of his groin, hips frantic in their thrusting. No longer pulling back as he tried to cram himself deeper into her, the nearly complete swell of his knot wedged halfway inside of her cunt. Straining to slip inside and tie with her, cork her up for when he flooded her insides with his thick cum.

But despite how hard he pushed and pounded, the tight clench of her already cram packed cunt was uncooperative in his needs. A flood of thick seed pouring from him before he could establish his tie, knot swelling into a hefty, meaty ball that popped free from her cunt and remained tightly pressed to the lips of her pussy.

Without the knot of flesh to cork his seed inside of her, it only took moments for his overflowing release to gush from her packed cunt and puddle on the bedding between her parted thighs. His cum spurting out of her in loud, lewd squelches that brought heat to Hinata’s face.

Her hands white knuckles as she gripped hard at the silk sheets, breathed laboured with exhaustion that ran right to the marrow of her bones. Legs at last giving out beneath her, body crumpling to the bed. His still swollen cock slipping out of her with a gushing torrent of cum, the last few spurts painted across her back in thick, white strips.

Without care for her modesty, Hinata remained boneless beneath him. Legs left splayed open, his cum leaking freely from her cunt. The once tight little snatch temporarily gaping open from its hard use, pink walls coated with a healthy wash of Akamaru’s seed.

“I’ll do better next time.” She whispered into the silk pressed firmly against her face, know Akamaru would hear her, despite the silence in her promise. “I’ll do better. I’ll be better.” She nodded lazily, body weighted down with fatigue.

The bed shifted with Akamaru’s movement, mattress dipping beside her as he settled down. Her quiet, looming guardian laying mutedly beside her, cold nose pressing into the crook of her throat. Breathing in the natural scent of her flesh, free of the dead man's blood.

Again she could almost hear the harsh hiss of his voice reminding her again.

Reminding her that she was… she was- **_Miinnneeee._ **

**Author's Note:**

> I had this story posted many years ago, and it ended up getting deleted from the site.
> 
> And I unfortunately did not have a copy of it saved elsewhere.
> 
> Several years later, a wonderful reader got in contact with me. After all these years, they had a saved copy. But reading through the chapters, I realized how different my writing has become since I posted the first chapter all those years ago. So slowly, I am going to rewrite all the chapters. And hopefully get into the mood to write several more.


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